The river is a mirror in the grey dawn. I dip my paddles and glide, white ripples on a reflected sky.
The fresh, loamy scent of the water beckons me along its lazy bends and curves as I chase the first flickers of light.
Then currents of cool, spiraling air deliver sweetness—a mellow fragrance, a friendly greeting.
Wild roses grow in tangles along the bank. Five pink petals open wide around a sunburst of yellow. They climb in laughing sprays of leaves and buds, their winding vines humming with the excitement of bumblebees.
A delight to buoy my solitude through the early morning hours.
About the Creator
E. McAuley
Musings from a wandering mind.
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Pouring
Rain, rhythmic on a taut umbrella—the stretched canvas too small to keep water from soaking the soft fabric of my coat. The legs of my slacks, drenched and dragging, and the grey sky unrelenting as the rain sheets down in heavy curtains. Spray comes up with each passing car—hulking bodies skidding and weaving as they barrel too fast into pools too deep.
By E. McAuley3 years ago in Poets
Victim or Survivor
TW: Mention of self harm and suicide attempts I'll preface this article with I have never listened to any other songs by Citizen Soldier. I had never heard of them until I found out from an Icon for Hire stream where they told fans about an "upcoming collab," being with Citizen Soldier. As soon as I saw that it was on Spotify, I listened to it over and over... And over because of the lyrics.
By Rene Peters7 days ago in Beat
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